


The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

by Llama1412



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Corvo Bianco (The Witcher), Crack Treated Seriously, Everybody Lives at Corvo Bianco Like Its 2012, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Cirihatesthe portrait from her childhood that Geralt displays openly and proudly andloudly. He shows it off to everyone he can and she wants to destroy it.Lucky for her, two fighting enemies present a prime opportunity to make the portrait's destruction look like an accident.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a [dumb comic](https://bard-llama.tumblr.com/post/641447155766280192/dumb-comic) and then was inspired to turn it into a fic.

Geralt may have thought it was  _ funny _ to hang Ciri’s awful childhood portrait in the entryway of Corvo Bianco, but she would  _ not _ let him get away with it. All she needed was someone to destroy the portrait for her, someone who could make it look like an accident and thereby save them all from consequences.

Walking through the garden, Ciri grinned as she heard the loud bickering approaching. Wasn’t it fortunate that she’d found  _ just _ the right people to assist her?

She still wasn’t clear how Geralt had come to consider both the men before her friends, but one thing was for certain –  _ they _ were not friends with  _ each other.  _ At all.

Vernon Roche snarled something unrepeatable in polite company – which she made note of for the next time her council of advisors got uppity about the reforms she wished to make – and Iorveth barked back at him, mocking smile fixed on the elf’s face. They sniped back and forth, not even noticing her approach, and Ciri smirked.

She could see why people thought them to be enemies. And they  _ were,  _ or sort of, anyway. Ex-enemies, at the least. But over the past week she’d been visiting her family (aka Geralt’s bizarre collection of people), Ciri had come to notice something. Little things. The twinkle in Iorveth’s eye as he baited Roche. The way Roche was careful never to stand in Iorveth’s blind spot. The looks on both their faces when the other wasn’t looking.

Ciri knew people. She didn’t think  _ they _ realized what it was yet, but she certainly did. Maybe she should clue them in?

“Gentlemen,” she said loudly over the top of their bickering, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “I have a proposal for you.”

They both startled and she rolled her lips together to keep from smirking too broadly.

“Oh, Ciri,” Roche said blankly. “Uh – proposal?”

Iorveth tilted his head. “What is your proposal, Cirilla?”

What was it with elves and never using her correct name? She was pretty sure they did it on purpose to be annoying.

“You’re both still wanted in the conquered North,” Ciri began, “and obviously I don’t particularly want to prosecute my dad’s friends.  _ But,”  _ she drew the word out enticingly, “if you can do something for me, I would be delighted to pardon the both of you.”

Iorveth’s eyebrow rose to his hairline. “An Empress’s pardon is no small thing.”

“What is this ‘something’?” Roche asked, a suspicious frown on his face.

She pursed her lips. “You’ve seen the portrait Geralt has in the entryway.”

“Everyone who has ever even approached this vineyard has seen that portrait.”

Ciri glared even as Iorveth elbowed Roche in the side.

“You hate that portrait,” Iorveth pointed out. 

“I do,” she agreed. “I really, really do. Which is why I would be very indebted to you if you happened to destroy it in the midst of one of your big flirting productions.”

“I’m sorry, our  _ what!?” _

She rolled her eyes. “You know, all the posturing and bickering and tugging on each other’s pigtails.”

Iorveth blinked. “I don’t have pigtails,” he said nonsensically. Roche just stared at her in horror, face flushing red.

“We are not–!”

“I have eyes,” Ciri cut him off. “Believe me, you definitely are. But that’s not the point. Just – if you could make the portrait a  _ casualty _ of your fights, then I will personally sign your pardons.”

Neither of them looked as convinced as they really should, clearly still hung up on the flirting thing. 

She sighed, snapping her fingers in their faces. “Existential crises later. For now – do we have a deal?”

“Won’t Geralt be… displeased at having his only picture of his daughter destroyed?” Iorveth asked delicately.

“It’s not the only picture he has. Is that what he’s been saying!? Ugh, of course he has. Anyway, that’s why you make it look like an accident. Duh.”

They still didn’t look terribly convinced, but if either of them ever wanted to  _ leave _ Corvo Bianco, they would need her pardon. Not that she would let Geralt’s friends get arrested. Well, not for long, anyway. But it was the fact of the matter – they would need the pardon only she could give. Suuuuurely that was worth one little favor.

“I suppose,” Roche said slowly, “there’s no real harm in it.”

“He literally only keeps that painting because I hate it.”

“Very well, Cirilla,” Iorveth nodded his head to her. “We will… take care of it.”

“Excellent,” Ciri smirked.

Now all she had to do was wait and the portrait would die.

  
Practicing her evil laugh was  _ way _ more fun when her companions joined in.


End file.
